Everyone has their partner weaving in and outnof the dance floor. They range from beginer to expert, but all are enjoying their time on the floor. And here I am enjoying the view. My friends come off breathing heavily and asking me to find a partner amongst mybfellow wall flowers. I smile and say no I don’t dance. Except I do dance. I love to dance, but I’m a snob when it comes to my own movements on the dance floor. My partner must be perfect in everyway when he twirls me around. We must float together over the hardwood. The akward shuffling of my potential partners just isn’t enough. So I’m waiting for my Angel. The one dance partner that can move with me perfectly using the rythm of the music as a guide.
Writer In Dreams
My world is diffrent from everyone around me. Some days it’s bright filled with color and music. Other days it’s dark filled with silence. On the days I can see colors are brighter and pouring out of every crevice. Music and laughter are the soundtrack to which I dance. On the dark days I muddle through. There is nothing to dance to and the steps are faulty. More and more days are filled with song and dance. Who knew my world coukd be so bright?
The place must be isolated enough that you won’t be interrupted. But you can’t choose a place where no body goes, your foot prints will be easy to spot that way. There ahoumd be things already there that will help destroy evidence do you’re not carrying too much stuff. It’s bad enough you’ll have to carry the body. Unless of course you manage to get the body to walk him/her self with the gear to your idwal spot. DON’T cause blood to spurt, gush, or any other ensanguinating method that will leave trace evidence on your person. Always remeber lye is only your friend if you live in a city and have no place to bury a body. It acts as a preservative when dirt is added. And if you must carry your body to the place you will bury it remeber that a chopped up body is easier to carry.
This is a section from a working novel entitled Darkness Within. Title is also temporary.
I want to cry. Not because you’ve hurt me but because of what you expect me to be. You want me to give you answers I do not have. Yes, I do see what he is doing to you but you won’t leave him. So what am I supposed to do for you? I can’t keep listening to the complaints when you refuse to acknowledge the solution. So I’m going to have to leave your life. You won’t see me ever again. Reflect on what I’ve told you and find your own answers. I won’t be there anymore to wipe your tears or listen when you hurt. Thwre is no point in me being there at all when you won’t even listen to my solutions. So this is good bye.
The guys came into the school with uzis in their hands and demands on their lips. Scared and confused teachers had no choice but to do what they said. Line by line we were marched into the gym. Someone had found the janitor, or maybe the principal did it, the bleachers were pulled out for everyone to sit on. You could tell how much the student body had grown with the number of students and teachers forced to sit on the floor. From my lofty position I saw her enter the gym. I’m sure she was in the restroom forgotten by everyone. No one ever talked to Sally as far as I knew. She certainly was an odd one, always reading. Then a gun man turns and sees her. He begins to shout raising his death machine higher as he yelled. Except, Odd Sally didn’t stop walking. She continued forward her the locked on the gunman, each step deliberate. I’m sure she gave him the same dead stare her grey eyes held for me when I tried to talk to her. His fear of her was palpable causing his buddies to turn around and train their sights on this unarmed 13 year old. The uzis let out a stream of hot lead intent on mowing down the harmless girl. Everyone around me cringes, hiding from what they believe will be a slaughter. Except for me. I can’t help but watch as the bullets freeze in mid air and drop harmlessly to the ground. I pray that whatever happens next no blood is shed. Sally stopped in front of one of the gunmen. He stares at her uselessly, his ammo gone. Her mouth moves but I hear nothing. The gunman drops and I fear he is dead. Sally looks at another and he drops too. One by one each man falls to the gaze of the lone child. Finished she looks up to where I sit and I see a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth and I KNOW that they live. “They’re alseep!” The principal cries in disbelief. Everyone stares at Sally. No one will forget her again.
The road we travel varies from time to time. Some days it curves hugging the land like a lover. Other days it’s straight heading directly to your destination. At times it can be frustrating, clogged with other motorists intent on their own destinations. No matter where the road goes, the destination is absolute. You should just enjoy the ride.
People are funny when it comes to the self. If a person tells someone of all the good they did they are labled as boastful and their accomplishments mean nothing. If a person self depricates then they are scolded saying that they are worth more. As a human being being you are not allowed to boast about your successes nor are you allowed to cast yourself in an unflattering light. It is tricky navigating the tightrope of self worth.